


Don't Knot

by eluna



Series: Subvert All The Tropes [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Knotting, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst, Consent Issues, Dirty Talk, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, John Finds Out, John Winchester Finds Out About Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, M/M, Omega Dean Winchester, Omega John Winchester, POV Dean Winchester, Pre-Season/Series 01, Queer Dean Winchester, Teen Winchesters (Supernatural), Trope Subversion, Underage Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eluna/pseuds/eluna
Summary: When Sam presents, Dean can’t decide whether he feels excited or nervous. This has been what he’s wanted for so long, and yet—is it really what he wants? Sometimes he thinks he likes the idea of Sam being an alpha more than he actually wants it to happen. Knotting just seems so constricting—and so messy, too, with all that semen—and if Sam were a beta or an omega, Dean wouldn’t have to worry about getting pregnant.





	Don't Knot

**Author's Note:**

> Months of writer's block and this, _this_ , is what gets me off my ass. Honestly.
> 
> Should make sense without having read the prequel; the two stories are only loosely connected.

Dean and Sam were always closer than normal brothers would have been, but it isn’t until Dean presents that they’re able to truly recognize what’s—

_(“Gonna be your alpha someday,” Sam says as they rut against each other’s thighs behind the Roadhouse, Dean grunting with the effort, Sam sucking down breaths and imagining that he can smell Dean’s omega-scent, whatever it must smell like. “Gonna claim you and mark you and knot you—”_

_“Yes,” Dean croaks raggedly._

_“—Gonna buy us a house and settle down somewhere far away where no one will judge us for being brothers. Gonna stuff you full of my pups, one after the other after the other—”_

_“_ Yes _,” says Dean, gasping, spilling in his jeans, and he doesn’t_ really _want the life Sammy wants him to settle for, but it feels so_ good _to entertain the fantasy in moments like this when they’re alone and intimate and saying whatever shit they want to say to get off.)_

—happening. It doesn’t start right away—Sam is still _so_ young—but a lot of pieces slot into place when it finally does. They’re lying awake in Dean’s bed one night when Sammy squirms and inhales and leans in to kiss Dean clumsily on the mouth, and, well, everything else just _clicks_ from there.

When Sam presents, Dean can’t decide whether he feels excited or nervous. This has been what he’s wanted for _so_ long, and yet— _is_ it really what he wants? Sometimes he thinks he likes the _idea_ of Sam being an alpha more than he actually wants it to happen. Knotting just seems so _constricting_ —and so messy, too, with all that semen—and if Sam were a beta or an omega, Dean wouldn’t have to worry about getting pregnant.

They’re not living at the Roadhouse anymore. Ellen didn’t _throw_ them out, per se, but it was clear to Dean that she blamed Dad for Bill dying, and things were horribly strained at home for the couple of weeks it took Dad to decide to take Dean and Sammy out on the road for a living. They’ve taken plenty of heat for it. Dean’s classmates and guidance counselors alike have had plenty to say about an omega like Dad not belonging in skeevy motels having to fend off knotheads everywhere he turns—about Dad and Dean and Sam belonging in some suburban subdivision where they can be a family and Dad can put his protector instincts to good use. But Dad _is_ putting his protector instincts to good use, by teaching Dean and Sam how to hold their own against all the creepy-crawlies that go bump in the night, and anyone who says an omega is too weak to defend himself has never found themselves at the wrong end of Dad’s gun.

Sam disagrees, because of course he does. He insists that he deserves a “normal” upbringing, whatever he thinks that may look like, and his conviction only strengthens once he presents as he starts to insist that Dad is failing at his maternal duty to his sons, that the road is no place for Dean to grow up. “Leave me out of it,” Dean says every time, but Sam doesn’t listen. Sammy never listens. Dean wonders whether Sam can even hear him over the sound of his own shouting, red in the face and stinking of aggression.

* * *

Dad finds out. He comes home to the motel a couple hours earlier than expected to find Dean and Sam half-naked, Sammy’s hand shoved down the back of Dean’s pants. Dad crosses the room, plucks Dean out of bed like he weighs nothing, and slams him against the wall by the throat. Dean’s expecting to smell rage or disgust emanating from him, but the only emotions on Dad’s scent are fear and something like self-loathing.

Dad appraises him for a long time, Dean frozen against the wall while Sammy screams for Dad to let him go. Dean doesn’t dare make eye contact, keeping his gaze lowered deferentially at Dad’s waist. Finally, Dad releases him. “Put your shirt back on,” he says softly. “You’re coming with me. Samuel, so help me god, if you leave this motel room, I will tan your hide.”

Dean scrambles to clothe himself and follow Dad from the room, casting a wild-eyed look back at Sammy over his shoulder just before Dad closes the door with a snap. They pile into the Impala; apart from the rumble of her engine and the roar of the wind, the silence is absolute. Eventually, Dad pulls into the parking lot of a Rite Aid. “Out,” he says, and Dean hastens to comply.

He follows Dad inside and into the family planning section, where Dad scrutinizes a shelf for a few moments and then plucks up a box of condoms. “You need to make sure you get the knotting kind, or else they’ll tear and won’t do you any good,” says Dad in that same scary-quiet voice. “Don’t think that your suppressants alone will prevent pregnancy, because they won’t. Neither will having sex without knotting.”

“Dad—”

“Sammy’s an alpha now, Dean, and alphas would like nothing more than to trick you into carrying their child. They say it’s their instinct, but it’s not about instincts: it’s about entitlement. Remember where we live. Remember what rights you don’t have.”

“Dad, this is _Sammy_ we’re talking about.”

“And Sammy’s always wanted nothing more than to leave the life, mate, and settle down with a pack of kids somewhere. If he’s willing to commit—” Dad can’t seem to bring himself to say the word “—to have you, don’t think he’s above coercion to keep you where he wants you.”

Dean pauses. “You mean you’re really gonna let me and Sammy do this?”

Dad sighs and grabs another few boxes off the shelf. “Short of going back to the Roadhouse and begging Ellen to take one of you, I don’t see how I can stop you. Be smart about this, Dean. Be careful.”

* * *

They wait until Dad leaves on his next hunt to do anything more than exchange heated glances when Dad’s not looking. Sam’s all over him, right away, but Dean presses a hand to his chest and pulls his mouth free. “Don’t knot,” he says, and Sam frowns. “Just—just talk to me like you used to.”

“But why? We’ve been waiting years to—”

“Sammy, please.”

Sam bites his lip and plunks his hands down on Dean’s shoulders. “Okay.”

Dean makes him wear a condom anyway, remembering what Dad said. Sam pulls out at the last second and squeezes his knot as it rapidly inflates, collapsing on top of Dean, thrusting the fingers of his free hand up into Dean’s channel. “Someday,” he breathes, “I’m gonna give all of this to you. I’m gonna kiss you while I knot you until you’re filled up to the brim with me, with my dick, with our pups—”

“Please,” sighs Dean, but he can’t keep the anxiety from leaking out into his scent, and Sam notices—pulls both his hands free and sits on them, next to where Dean’s lying.

“What’s wrong?” Sam sounds so young. Dean has to give him credit for recognizing that it’s Serious Conversation Time even with his knot up and semen flooding into his condom.

“Nothing’s _wrong_ , I just… I don’t think I’m all that into alpha/omega stuff.” The words surprise him as he says them, and yet he knows them to be true.

Sam frowns. “That doesn’t make any sense. You’re an omega. Of course you’re into alpha/omega stuff.”

“Not… I like the _idea_ of it, okay, but… it’s one thing to get off on daydreaming about something and another thing to actually _do_ it. I just… I don’t think I would really like knotting very much. Hell, I don’t think I would like being _claimed_ very much, or having kids.”

“You—you don’t want us to be together?” Sammy smells like he’s on the verge of tears.

“No, sweetheart, no, that’s not what I’m saying at all. Of course I want to be with you, I just… it’s about things I don’t think I want from anyone. It’s _not_ about things I don’t want from you.”

Sam still looks especially young in that moment, and Dean wonders for the first time whether he and Sam jumped into a physical relationship too soon. “I’m gonna be good enough for you,” says Sam, and Dean sighs.

“Sammy, it’s not about whether you’re good enough—”

“I’m gonna be good enough, and I’m gonna make it good for you. I am.” Sam pouts, and Dean wonders what it’s going to take to convince Sam that he isn’t the problem.

* * *

 

It’s like there’s a divide now, with Dad on one side and Dean and Sam on the other. Dad starts taking them along for hunts more often, pulling Sam out of school for long weekends, much to Sam’s frustration. Sam tries pulling the alpha card, saying Dad’s just an omega and can’t order him around like he’s a kid anymore, to which Dad replies, “You _are_ still a kid, and you _will_ do as I tell you to do, and you _will_ respect your father.”

Dean thinks Dad doesn’t realize that Sam hasn’t respected him in a long, long time. Now that he’s presented, though, he seems to have the courage not to back down from a fight until Dad snaps and gets him in a chokehold and beats him below the waist—never as hard as he could, but hard enough to shut Sam up, anyway. Dean _hates_ it, but at the same time, he wonders what leverage Dad’s got other than physical violence to make Sammy obey him anymore.

Dad always gets the three of them a single motel room, always brings up a cot for Sam or Dean to sleep on, even knowing what he knows about them. Sometimes, Sammy waits till Dad’s asleep and then crawls into Dean’s bed, palms open. Dean kicks him out every time.

* * *

“Don’t knot.”

“I won’t.”

“Don’t knot.”

“I _won’t_.”

“Sammy—”

Sam knots. Dean lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It’s a tight fit, and it _hurts_ , and Dean doesn’t know how he’s supposed to enjoy this—how the hell other omegas enjoy this without effort.

“I _told_ you to be careful.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—I thought I had more time.”

Sammy looks like he’s about to cry, and Dean sighs, forces down the pain, and kisses both Sam’s cheeks. “We’ll wait it out. Come here.”

He engulfs Sam in a hug; Sammy snuggles up under Dean’s chin and settles in for the long haul. It’s almost not too bad, just cuddling naked with Sam on top of the blankets, but the pain and the fullness in his butt keep reminding him why this is something Dean only gets off on _talking_ about.

“It’s kind of nice, though, right?” says Sam with the air of someone trying desperately to fix his mistake. “I mean, it’s a way of being close to you, and…”

Sighing, Dean says, “Honestly, Sammy, I would rather be close to you this way _without_ your knot up my ass.”

Regret and rejection and something like annoyance all flare up into Sam’s scent. “All your talk about how you love me for me and why can’t that be enough—I’m an alpha, Dean! If you loved me for who I am, you would love me _with_ my alpha, not in spite of it!”

“I _do_ love you for who you are!” says Dean, stung. “There’s a difference between loving someone and sharing the same kinks as them.”

“This isn’t just a _kink_! It’s the most fundamental _part_ of me!”

“I thought Dad taught you better than to think that people’s sexual urges are their defining characteristics. Six months ago, you were a fully formed person _without_ being an alpha, remember?”

“But I always wanted to be,” says Sammy. “Ever since you presented as an omega, I wanted to be an alpha so that I could be with you.”

“You could have still been with me if you were a beta or, hell, even an omega. I wouldn’t have stopped loving you, you know.”

“But I’m _not_ ,” Sam says, changing tack at the speed of light. “And _you’re_ the one I want to mate with. God, Dean, how can you say you love me and not want that, too?”

More than anything, Dean wishes Sam could pull out so that Dean could leave the motel and get some privacy, but from what Dean’s read, they’ve got at least another ten minutes before that will be possible. He absentmindedly twirls a lock of Sam’s hair around and around his fingers. “You’re enough to make me happy, Sammy, even if we don’t feel the same way about mating and kids.”

Sam slowly extricates his arms from around Dean’s waist. The _but_ _you’re_ not  _enough_ is implied.


End file.
